


Savior

by orphan_account



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-14
Updated: 2005-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trowa contemplates the slap Catherine gave him after he tried to self-detonate his Gundam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Savior

To him, it seemed like moments ago, that his life felt as disposable as an unarmed mobile suit in the middle of combat. He had sat upright in his war machine, ready to go for the kill, with his fingers poised aptly above the button of detonation. He had OZ at a complete disadvantage since the beginning. They wouldn't suspect the opening act to be in the face of his myriad of missile launchers. He was ready for the show to come to its abrupt and explosive finale. Trowa Barton, a guerrilla fighter, a cold blooded killer, and a disposable hero. He wouldn't burden his family with his existence any longer, and he'd take his enemies that threatened them into Hell with him.

From the background, her eyes burned, with the same kind of rage as a lion that cannot be tamed. Catherine came along, and put her foot down right at the foot of his Gundam. And, after her foot met the ground, her hand met his face, and the walls began to crumble, along with the OZ invaders.

 

Even when lying in bed three hours later, he could still feel the burning outline of her hand on his cheek, fresh, hot, and powerful. The tears she cried afterward had been completely unorthodox, to add to that livid tingling on his left cheek. He soon found his fingers tracing lines down her back, rather than hovering over the self-detonate switch. 

 

Catherine hated war so much. She complained about it as much as she possibly could during his stay. Not that he could blame her, though he didn't quite agree. Since the day he was born, fighting was what he did and always did. Life in the circus was his only escape, and he thought he was to exchange that for death, until she came along. The slap banished the thought, and then the tears killed it. He'd never had something so important to live for.

 

Which of the two of them was the savior that night, and which was the victim, he couldn't quite figure out. In an odd way, they'd saved each other, and his heart tugged quite a bit at the idea of having a hero for the first time. 

 

His life was the precious stone he had to keep, for her sake. 

 

[End]


End file.
